


unlucky at cards (lucky in love)

by ascience



Category: Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Borussia Dortmund, FC Schalke 04, M/M, playing Mafia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-04
Updated: 2015-01-04
Packaged: 2018-03-05 06:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3108959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ascience/pseuds/ascience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alright, star-crossed lovers then, a villager and a mafioso, little chance of both of them winning together, some other backhanded metaphor for Benni’s life, etc etc. <em>Figures.</em></p><p>(New Year's fic, sort of.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	unlucky at cards (lucky in love)

**Author's Note:**

> New year, same old trash, that's me but if you could see me right now, you would know I'm shrugging.  
> Based on a prompt that goes like 'chosen as the lovers in a game of werewolf', except I did it with _Mafia_ which is basically the same thing.  
>  Okay, this fic makes no sense if you don't vaguely understand the game _Mafia_? Minimal version: you draw cards and based on them you get a secret role. It's villagers versus mafia and you basically play rounds called 'day' and 'night' and 'kill'/eliminate someone each round. There are some optional roles as well, like cupid who gets to choose two other people as lovers. The lovers win when only the two of them survive. (wikipedia [here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mafia_%28party_game%29))
> 
> Are you sufficiently confused? Alright. Here we go.

Benni downs his third glass and grimaces. He hates sparkling wine enough as it is and in addition, this one is supposed to taste like strawberry but if the poor excuse for alcohol has ever been in the same room as a strawberry, it certainly didn’t take any notes.

Benni is no spoil sport and he usually isn’t the person to stand in the corner of the room at parties, staring at their phone, either but this New Year’s Eve might just be a little different.

A lot of things have happened the past year, most prominently of course the World Cup, Benni got his hair transplant, he finally admitted his crush on Mats to himself, Schalke won the Revierderby, hm.

Trying to hide it in a list of accomplishments doesn’t really make it any easier, Benni realises, tiredly rubs his neck and turns his phone off.

He certainly doesn’t regret coming here, to Dortmund, to Mats’ house, to Mats’ living room, to _Mats_ for the New Year’s Eve party but he didn’t plan it either and that’s what makes him uncomfortable.

Benni had wanted to wallow in self-pity a little, scroll through the photos from their celebrations in Berlin, drink some nice ice-cold beer, watch the fireworks at midnight and come up with a scheme on how to survive the next year.

 _I’m going to tell Mats the next time I see him_ , Benni had promised himself, which had seemed to be a reasonable time frame at that point but then Mats’ emoji-laden text message arrived a minute later and somehow, miraculously, Benni found himself on the way to Dortmund with Julian and Lena strapped to the backseat of his car – meeting Mats way earlier than planned.

Well, Benni is at the party now and it’s not the worst place to be, god help him, even if he’s mostly surrounded by Dortmund players – the sticky taste of sparkling wine in his mouth, confetti in his hair, watching Marco and Mats trying to dance to 2014’s summer charts.

When the song ends, Benni can see Mats say something to Marco and head straight towards him. Uh oh.

“Enjoying the view?” Mats asks, one eyebrow cocked, and Benni chokes on his own spit before he remembers that that’s just the way Mats always acts. That guy would probably flirt his way out of hell if given the opportunity.

“Come on, don’t stand there like a boring floor lamp! Next thing you’re going to tell me that you’d rather hang out with my dog than join the party.” Mats adds and grins.

Benni shrugs and makes peace with the fact that he’s going to have to break his first resolution (admitting his crush to Mats) even before 2015 starts.

Not particularly impressed with the reaction, Mats groans exaggeratedly and drags Benni into the middle of the room onto the improvised dance floor.

“Everybody listen up!” Mats calls over the noise of music and chattering and throws an arm around Benni’s shoulders. Benni suddenly feels hot in his skin but he can’t tell whether it’s because of them now being the centre of attention or because of Mats’ mouth close to his ear. Fuck New Year’s resolutions anyway.

“Who’s up for round of some mind-blowing Mafia?” Mats hollers and the way everyone else hollers back, it’s not even a real question.

“See?” Mats ask, only directed at Benni this time, “we’re going to have some fun now. _You_ are going to have some fun now that’s not staring at a wall.”

For a moment, Mats kneads Benni’s shoulder, probably in an attempt to make him loosen up and only achieving the complete freaking opposite, then they move towards the others forming a circle on the floor already.

Auba – who is wearing ill-fitting 2015 glasses with the holes in the zero and the one – conjures up a deck of cards from somewhere and wins the fight with Marco over who gets to be the game master.

Marco, predictably, sulks briefly before he announces loudly, “I’m going to be a member of the mafia.”

“You always say that and we don’t even have our cards yet,” Mats remarks and Marco sticks out his tongue in reply.

Auba distributes the cards and Benni takes a peak at his behind his hand. A four of diamonds. A villager then, pretty boring, but Benni isn’t in the mood to be adventurous anyway and tries not to think too hard about Mats’ thigh touching his own.

“First night! Everyone close your eyes, please!” Auba says and starts narrating the usual tale about a village oppressed by the mafia. He calls up the prostitute, then the doctor, the mafiosi (and Benni swears he can hear Mats next to him move), the detective and finally cupid to decide on the two lovers.

Benni doesn’t pay much attention because he won’t be called up as a villager and mostly concentrates on not moving as to not make himself a suspect so he startles when he feels Auba tap him on the shoulder when he’s walking past him.

“Lovers, please open your eyes now and get to know each other!” Auba says and cheekily adds kissing noises which prompts some chuckles.

Benni squints and looks around but doesn’t see anyone else doing the same until – he meets Mats’ eyes. Mats winks and mimes devil’s horn. Alright, star-crossed lovers then, a villager and a mafioso, little chance of both of them winning together, some other backhanded metaphor for Benni’s life, etc etc. _Figures_.

Benni nods so Auba knows they found each other and goes back to ‘sleep’, stifling a groan. Whoever cupid is in this game, he’s going to have to suffer.

The next day is announced and it’s Mitchell who died and turns out to be a villager.

“Alright, then... let the games begin!” Auba announces in a grave voice and takes a step back from the circle of people on the floor.

Benni takes a look into the round and is mostly met by equally calculating glances. Erik is blushing pinkly and it’s obvious to anyone who has ever met him that he has to be the prostitute so it’s not a surprise that he is killed the next night, after everyone gangs up against and eliminates İlkay from the game, successfully getting rid of a mafioso.

A bowl with chips makes its round, along with accusations against basically anyone who dares to open their mouth, while Julian tries to convince everyone that he’s the hunter, though badly, and people get killed off one by one.

“Mats is totally part of the mafia,“ Sven accuses at some point and Mats sneers at him.

“Please, I would never! I’m not a bad guy! Look at me and tell me that an innocent face like mine could lie!”

Sven doesn’t look very convinced and Benni is about to laugh when Mats draws him against his chest and turns Benni’s head so that he’s facing Sven.

“If you don’t believe me,” he says, “believe Benni! A good soul if there ever was one and he’s ready to vouch for me, right?”

Benni sort of has to breathe through the veil of dizziness created by skin contact with Mats and nods numbly before he gets grip on himself and shoves Mats away.

Sven squints at them.

“Benni is the enemy. And he might just as well be a mafioso for all I know.”

“We’re going to need a decision at some point if we want to get this done this year. And I mean that literally since it’s getting close to midnight,” Auba butts in and Benni is almost thankful when someone randomly points at him and peer pressure makes sure that he’s the one getting eliminated.

“Uh, I’m a villager,” he says and everyone groans, fake or not, “and part of the lovers, actually. So, Mats dies with me.”

“Figures,” Kevin actually laughs out loud (just like Benni thought before) because he has no brain-to-mouth filter and snickers, “High-five to whoever is cupid. Totally the right choice. _Isso._ ”

At first Mats laughs along but then he looks at Benni and. Just stops.  
In a heartbeat, the atmosphere changes but nobody else seems to notice.

Benni reciprocates the gaze and maybe his eyes are giving his secret away, maybe it’s him kneading his sweaty palms (they _do_ have become good at reading each other) but either way, Mats _halts_ completely and stares at him like he’s a code to be deciphered.

It’s all too much for Benni and definitely not the way he wanted to handle his New Year’s Eve so he gets up on shaky knees, all too aware of Mats’ eyes still following and only vaguely registering how Auba wraps up the game behind him.

Benni flees into Mats’ kitchen, not because he wants to surrender but because he has to change his plan of battle.

As he sinks against the cool surface of the fridge, he takes out his phone, finds the note with his New Year’s resolutions and ticks off the one that simply says ‘ _tell mats’_ , just to make sure he’d feel appropriately bad if he chickens out now.

Not that he’s going to do that, not when Mats apparently knows already, and _Kevin_ of all people and whoever drew the fucking ace of hearts.

The kitchen door opens and of course, speak of the devial, it's Mats who walks in, his card, the jack of diamonds, still peaking out of his jeans pocket.

“I have to-“ Benni starts at the same time as Mats says, “Ah, my dead lover.” and it shuts Benni down again right away.

“They’re already counting down outside,” Mats continues slowly when Benni doesn’t reply and senselessly rearranges two spoons lying next to the sink. “Granted, they’re counting from, like, two-hundred but – Look, it was Marco, okay?”

Benni pushes himself up from where he half-stands, half-leans against the fridge and frowns at Mats.

“What was Marco?”

“Cupid. He was cupid. I told him not be an asshole but it’s Marco Reus we’re talking about. Uhm, the villagers won, in case you wanted to know. Congrats.”

Mats drops the spoons into the sink and looks at Benni again, the way he did in the living room, as if trying to read a book in a foreign language.

Outside In the living room Benni can hear table fireworks go off and he glances at his watch. A minute left to midnight, to New Year, to a new start.

Go big or go home, kiss Mats or die tryin’, Benni thinks and takes a deep breath.

“Mats, I’m going to do something now and I would really appreciate it if you didn’t punch me in the face. Or elsewhere, really. If you absolutely feel like you have to punch me somewhere, maybe in the shoulder? That might be a good compromise if the impulse, uh, overcomes you.”

Benni takes a step closer and before he has time to hesitate, someone outside starts counting down and suddenly, it’s like there’s not enough time in the world left for this, for them.

Desperately, Benni grabs Mats by his shirt and hauls him closer, so close that their lips are almost touching and he can feel Mats’ hot breath on his face.

“My new year’s resolution,” Benni mumbles, contextless, and swallows drily.

“Another thing we’ve got in common,” Mats replies, digs his fingers into Benni’s side.

For a moment, only the sound of their shaky breaths fills the room, then Mats impatiently says, “I’m not going to punch you – you have no idea for how long – just. Do. _Something_.”

Benni lays his lips on Mats’, less ceremoniously than he had imagined it but then again, his fantasy had also involved a lot less Mafia.

Someone makes a needy noise and Benni wouldn’t be able to tell whether it was him or Mats as he feels Mats make fists with his t-shirt and put his own hand on Mats’ chest.

The countdown comes to a close at zero, the noise of fireworks and shouting erupts and Mats smiles against Benni's lips.

Surprisingly, the world doesn’t end.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/anexactscience) as you probably know by now?


End file.
